that time i dyed my hands red.

this is the end of the story:

and this is the story:

first, no i didn't murder anyone.

it all began when my friend amy wanted a red streak in her hair.

and i said, "i can do that!"

and i can.

and i did a good job, hammit.

...except for the part where i said,

"there's still bleach on these gloves, i can't use them to do the red dye."

and thus i said,

"i'll just use my hands! i'll only touch the dye for like 30 seconds."

and i did.

and well...

please refer back to the picture above.

i've tried:

shampoo, dish soap, exfoliating body wash, toothpaste, baking soda, apple cider vinegar, nail polish remover, voo doo magic...

no dice, kids!

and thus i look like i've murdered someone.

and it may appear this way for a couple weeks.

the best part is that a litttttle bit of red dye comes off my hands every time they come in contact with a cleaning agent.

and thus this morning i realized,

"i can't shampoo my blonde hair or it will turn pink!"

and thus i found myself kneeling over the bathtub,

while my blessed roommate washed my hair for me.

and i giggled the entire time.

also, please don't ask about the 80s garb and side ponytail.

that's another story.

OJ Simpson hands,

katilda